“I won't,” I said.
I walked out of the Council chamber, the heavy door closing behind me with a resonant thud that echoed through the stone corridor.
As I made my way through the estate's dim hallways, I pulled out my phone and opened Violet’s dorm camera feed. She was lying on her stomach, typing away on her laptop, safe for now. Mine to watch, not to touch.
But in ten days, that would change.
Her name would be posted on the Artemis Building at 2:00 sharp, and then the hunt would begin.
I allowed myself a slight smile as I stepped out into the cold October air. Violet thought she was investigating us. Thought she was being clever, sneaking into our ceremony, playing at detective.
She had no idea she was already mine.
21
Violet
“No offense,Vee, but you look exhausted,” Cherry said, sliding her tray across from mine in the dining hall. “I hope you’re not sleepwalking again.”
She was right. I wasn’t looking my best and brightest today, because sleep had been elusive lately. Too many thoughts spinning through my head, too many dead ends, too many questions without answers.
“I’m just tired,” I said, stabbing at my potato bake without much enthusiasm. “I was up all night studying.”
Ginny dropped into the seat beside Cherry, her red hair pulled back in a messy bun. “C’mon, Vee, it's Halloween! You're supposed to be excited about parties, not acting like a zombie. Unless… ooh, costume idea!”
I managed a small smile. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I won’t even need all the crazy makeup with these dark circles.”
Right now, we were all pretending everything was fine, skirting around the real reason I hadn’t been sleeping.
It had been two weeks since I infiltrated the Dionysus Club's initiation ceremony. Two weeks since I'd watched them cut initiates' palms and mix blood with wine. Two weeks since I'dseen Daniel Northmont—Jeremiah's stepbrother—sworn in as a new recruit.
Two weeks, and we'd gotten absolutely nowhere.
Jeremiah finally arrived, dropping into the chair beside me with a frustrated sigh. “I’ve still got nothing,” he told us, keeping his voice low. “I managed to clone my brother’s phone yesterday while I was helping him with a study sesh, but there's nothing useful on it. Just standard freshman stuff. Group chats about classes, some gym bros talking about protein powder, Instagram DMs with girls. Nothing about the Club.”
My heart sank, though I'd been expecting it. “They're probably too smart to put anything in writing. Or they’ve all got secret burner phones.”
“Or one of those encrypted chat programs,” Dylan added from the head of the table.
“Probably,” Jeremiah replied with a nod. “I'm going to keep trying, but I don't know what else to do. He doesn't talk about it, for obvious reasons.”
Because they'd trained him well. Sworn him to secrecy. Made him understand what happened to people who tried to talk.
People like Cal.
“We'll figure something out,” I said, though I wasn't sure how much I believed that anymore.
I'd spent the last two weeks trying to track down other people Calista might’ve known; people who might have information about her final days. But every lead had turned into another dead end. Friends who'd transferred or graduated. Professors and old dorm neighbors who claimed not to remember her. Staff who'd clearly been paid off or scared into silence.
The Dionysus Club was just too damn good at covering their tracks.
And then there was the matter of Kane Sutherland…
My stomach churned at the thought of him. His fraternity brothers had reported him missing shortly after our disastrous meetup at Revs. The police had questioned me, of course, because according to their investigation, I was likely the last person to have seen him.
I'd told them that we arrived at Revs in separate vehicles that evening, that the meetup hadn't gone well, and that I'd left early and gone back to my dorm without him.
All true.
